Saturday, January 29, 2011

Alfred Hitchcock (An Essential Collection) - Killer Soundtracks


1/29/11 – Alfred Hitchcock (An Essential Collection) (Bernard Herrmann)

Cinema, and certainly the development of cinema, is undoubtedly the most important artistic development of the 20th century.
 – Bernard Herrmann

So today marks the first “5th” of the year, being the 5th Saturday of the month.  These are the days I’ve delegated to albums and collections that don’t fit inside the boxes set apart on the original framework for this project.  Even though I have a rough schedule of the year mapped out, these are the most prone to change as the year goes by.  If those of you reading this have any suggestions on recordings I should listen to, this is also where they’re most likely to show up.  Along those lines, if you have any suggestions, let me know.  By now I’m sure you have some idea of what I’d be prone to listen to if you’ve been following at all.
Bernard Herrmann is one of those rarely known film composers by name, but almost all of us are familiar with his works.  His extensive work with Alfred Hitchcock have made his works immediately recognizable (“Psycho,” anyone?) but his reach goes beyond Hitchcock to Orson Welles film and radio dramas, Rod Sterling’s The Twilight Zone, and collaborations with Scorsese and many others.  In fact, according to his wikipedia page, Herrmann scored 51 movies in his lifetime.   
This collection not only contains orchestral suites from some of Herrmann’s most famous collaborations with Hitchcock, but also snippets of recorded interviews where Herrmann discusses his philosophy on composition and film scoring, the role of the composer as both an artist and a subject to his audience, and his experience with different directors over the years, most notably Welles and Hitchcock.  I find his advice and outlook on the writing process to be every bit as valuable as the music itself contained here.
The first musical selection in this collection is the “Psycho Suite,” containing selections from the prelude, finale, and of course, the famous shower scene.  Listening to the prelude in particular, I recognize what sounds like a lot of Stravinsky influence, specifically reminiscent of the string work in The Rite of Spring.  The aggressive, rhythmic pulsing of the midrange strings and a whole-tone based harmonic hierarchy give the string orchestra a very nervous and “jumpy” feel.  The shrieks of the violins in the murder scene are of course immediately recognizable to most, but still as powerful a musical gesture as the day it was written.  As the piece draws to a conclusion, the high piched, dissonant adagio is eerie to say the least.
Vertigo’s “Scene D’Amour” is the first suite from which I am not familiar with the accompanying film.  Again, Herrmann limits himself to the string section of the orchestra, withholding the woodwinds until a full minute and a half into the piece.  The mood is nostalgic, and sounds like it would be equally well suited to radio melodrama, perhaps even moreso than Hitchcock’s suspense/thrillers.  Perhaps if you’ve seen Vertigo, you’d draw your own conclusions.  Perhaps if I’d seen Vertigo, I’d draw different conclusions as well…
The only vocal work contained herein is the Cantata “The Storm Clouds,” from The Man Who Knew Too Much.  While featured prominently in the film, the cantata was actually written by Australian composer Arthur Benjamin and merely conducted by Herrmann for the film.  Benjamin apparently wrote the piece for a 1934 film adaptation of The Scarlet Pimpernel.  Brass triumphantly blasts for the first time thus far, and a soprano begins a brilliant choral counterpoint similar to the final movement of Leonard Bernstein’s “Chichester Psalms,” written some 30 years later.
The prelude to North by Northwest is by far the most texturally diverse selection on the CD, utilizing all parts of the orchestra moreso than earlier works.  The alternating 3/4 and 6/8 rhythms give it a generically exotic feel; I can’t tell if it is supposed to be Middle Eastern or Hispanic in nature.
The The Wrong Man prelude is a vast departure from the other soundtracks presented.  The opening is a latin jazz inspired dance number, interspersed with light, slightly eerie flute interludes, again over a whole tone based accompaniment.  Bouncy and light, it just doesn’t seem congruous with the remainder of the CD.
The final musical track is both disappointing and at the same time, a credit to Herrmann’s skill and legacy as a composer.  It is an overprocessed, studio-slick cut-and-paste job containing a few select measures of the original Psycho score, and a vast array of canned sound effects.  The result is an auditory trailer for the 1999 remake of the film, and further proof that “newer sounding” and “edited down” do not always mean better.  Give me Herrmann’s original score any day.

1 comment:

  1. Great choice of an album to review. Never would have thought of it.

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